


Further Commentary

by sarcasticsra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-30
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 04:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticsra/pseuds/sarcasticsra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some further commentary by Albus on "The Warlock's Hairy Heart".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Further Commentary

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the beta, Abigail.

  
**Further Commentary on “The Warlock’s Hairy Heart”  
By: Albus Dumbledore**   


I trust that after my death, the arbiter of my estate—one Minerva McGonagall—will kindly agree to allow these commentaries to be published, should such a request be forthcoming. However, I respectfully ask that this particular extended commentary be excluded. I wish for it to be distributed to only those who knew me—Harry, for instance, may find it of particular interest.

No doubt it may intrigue anyone why I would want to keep my thoughts on this particular subject private. I freely admit a high regard for my own cleverness, and often enjoy sharing ideas with others. Alas, the tale I am about to tell is highly personal and does little to reinforce the notion of my cleverness.

When I was a young man, I met another young man by the name of Gellert Grindelwald. This was the first time either of us had met another being on our level: we were far too bright for our own good, and bored easily, which lead us to dangerous waters. I trust I needn’t go into details on the kind of wizard Gellert became, as that is common knowledge; as is, of course, the fact that I was the one to defeat him.

What is not common knowledge, however, is that while at first we were simply the best of friends, our relationship transformed rather significantly in a very short period of time, and soon we found ourselves in the heart of a romantic entanglement.(1) This is the beginning of every romantic fable, is it not? Two young, beautiful people brashly falling in love and pledging to spend the rest of their lives together, happily ever after, and what could possibly go awry? We thought we were invincible. We thought we couldn’t be bested. Most significantly of all, we thought we were right.(2)

While we were only together a short time, and the occasion of his departure opened my eyes to the kind of man he was, I still loved him. The years marched on and he started garnering a reputation, becoming what the history books immortalize him as, yet I hesitated. The reason is obvious, but do not let that fool you into believing it is simple. I was in love with him, or perhaps I was in love with the memory of him, remembering the dangerously intelligent young man I had befriended and quickly loved, the first true equal I had ever known. So I waited. He gained power and followers, made his intentions obvious, and still I did nothing. I refused to act until the night it became apparent that I must.

This hesitation embarrasses me to this day, and I suspect it always will, which is indeed what connects this story to this fairy tale.

After I had done the task I had so procrastinated on, I became very angry with myself. How, I wondered, had I let such a foolhardy emotion control me for so long? I was no young man any longer; I knew full well what Gellert had become, and yet still I did nothing, clinging to past sentimentality like a smitten schoolboy. It was most unwise of me, I realize now, to chastise myself this way, and yet still now, as I write this, I wish to qualify my actions in regard to Gellert, to explain why I loved him the way I did, so as to possibly make them more palatable to those not inside my head.

The anger I felt at myself did not abate for quite some time, and I must confess it affected me rather negatively. It wasn’t until I was searching for some fresh parchment in the long neglected drawers of my desk that I stumbled across a copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. Desiring a trip down memory lane, I opened the book and began to read, stopping for a moment after I finished reading this fable in particular.

“The Warlock’s Hairy Heart” was, as it is said in the Muggle vernacular, a warning shot. That is, it opened my eyes to the follies powerful, brilliant people can be prey to, and in particular the folly I was in the progress of committing.

After all, I loved Gellert, and if I had not, I could have acted much more quickly in stopping him at last. I had been angry at myself for nearly the entirety of the past year, passionately disdaining the power my love for him had exerted over my rational mind, and in allowing that anger to fester, I was metaphorically cutting out my own heart.

It is true that love is an unpredictable, wild, inexplicable thing, something that causes us to behave in ways that we cannot explain or in ways we may not always be proud of. It is also true, however, that love is one of the traits that make up the very essence of our humanity, and it cannot be excised without serious consequences. While Beedle’s warlock did this by literally removing his heart from his chest and locking it away, I was, as many others have done, attempting to do it by refusing the possibility that I would ever love again under the guise of wanting to stay rational and in control. Alas, human beings are not truly rational, and in the quest for such a trait, we are often led astray.

As I’m sure you can see, this particular tale holds a very personal meaning for me, but I believe this meaning is not so personal as to be irrelevant to others. That was the driving force behind my decision to write out my commentary. While this particular section may only be read by a handful of people, I trust that it will manage to find its way to those who need it most.

  
(1)Homosexuality is not a subject broached often by the wizarding world, but then, we do so often have one-track minds. With the main focus during Lord Voldemort’s lifetime being blood purity, it is easy to understand how other subjects are relegated to the shadows. While it is not debated with the frequency or fervor that it is in Muggle culture, I feel confident in stating that some group of wizards and witches somewhere has a very urgent if inexplicable problem with it. Tread lightly. Small minds are often accompanied by large mouths.

  
(2)The number of atrocities that have been committed by those who were convinced beyond all reckoning that they were unequivocally right and everyone else was unequivocally wrong cannot be measured. It is far too high.


End file.
